


Responsible Forever

by Laylah



Category: Naruto
Genre: Backstory, M/M, Seduction, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-06
Updated: 2011-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You become responsible forever for what you have tamed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Responsible Forever

The boy is a delight. His simple-minded clan could not have prepared him better if they had been trying. He's quiet and fierce as a beaten dog, wary and curious as a feral child. He asks questions with his eyes, avidly tracking Orochimaru's every movement to try to discern what his new master requires.

Orochimaru talks to him as they travel, watching the way the boy hangs on every word, drinking them in with a voracious attention that feels charmingly familiar. The fools of the Kaguya clan kept their brightest hope locked in a cage, squandering their chance to truly make use of his potential. Merely welcoming him to the world outside those bars would have been enough to earn his loyalty, but he has the potential to be so much more than an attack dog.

So Orochimaru tells him about the hidden villages as they walk the forest roads, explains the basics of chakra manipulation when he raises an Earth-Style shelter for them to wait out a rainstorm, gives lessons in anatomy as he prepares the rabbit one of his snakes ensnared for their dinner. Kimimaro absorbs everything without question for the first few days, but eventually interrupts an explanation with, "How?"

Orochimaru smiles at his serious expression. "How do you concentrate your chakra at one extreme of your body?"

Kimimaro nods, watching Orochimaru's hands intently. "Show me."

The lessons pick up in pace and intensity after that, driven by Kimimaro's questions, guided by Orochimaru's careful direction. The boy has an agile mind, starved for things to occupy it after those years in his cage. He blushes at praise, asks endless questions, works hard to demonstrate his mastery of each new concept. He flourishes; it's satisfying in a way not unlike developing new jutsu, seeing potential and coaxing it into form.

He grows more comfortable with Orochimaru's closeness as the lessons progress, as well; he didn't complain even at the beginning, but there was a tension in his posture, waiting for an attack he seemed sure was coming. But here, too, he learns quickly, and Orochimaru makes sure to reinforce the lesson well: he will strike at Kimimaro only when they are sparring; at all other times, his touch is gentle. He brushes the tangles from the boy's hair, lets the soft silver fall of it spill through his fingers. He lays a steadying hand across the small of Kimimaro's back when he points out some detail in the trees. He brings the boy new clothes to replace his battle-torn rags, and knots the sash himself.

One night Kimimaro has violent nightmares, thrashing his way free of the blankets beside the embers of their fire. He lies gasping for breath, staring up at the stars. Orochimaru pushes back his own blanket and opens his arms. "Come here," he says.

Kimimaro's eyes are wide, but he obeys, crawling into Orochimaru's arms. His thin shoulders shake as he buries his face in Orochimaru's shoulder.

Orochimaru strokes his hair, slips a hand under the hem of his shirt and scratches his back in a slow, soothing motion. When Kimimaro's panicky breathing has slowed and grown almost steady, Orochimaru murmurs, "Nobody will ever imprison you like that again." Kimimaro sobs once, clutching Orochimaru's robe. Orochimaru kisses his temples, his forehead, the fluttering delicate lids of his eyes. "Sleep. We'll reach a village tomorrow."

The village they come to the next day is a quiet little place, with not much to recommend it except for the chance to sleep indoors for a night. Kimimaro sticks close by Orochimaru's side; people still seem to unnerve him, as though he has no idea how to relate to them without the order to kill. It's tempting, for a brief moment, to order him to fight, and see how he performs—but that would be foolishness, even in a remote place like this that doesn't have the advantages of the Hidden Mist Village. Kimimaro has potential that shouldn't be wasted on frivolous whims.

They take a meal together, and a room at the village's one inn; the baths are nothing special, save for the obvious wonder that Kimimaro takes in the experience. He is a beautiful child, and his ability to make the mundane seem new and fascinating again is charming. Orochimaru beckons him over, holding him as they soak in the hot water, Kimimaro's back pressed warm against his chest. The plates of Kimimaro's bone armor, his precious bloodline limit, lie close enough beneath his skin to be felt.

He doesn't hesitate when Orochimaru beckons for him to pull their futons together that night. It's possible he doesn't know what that implies. Would any of his backward clansmen have bothered to teach him anything, or did they simply leave him alone in the dark? But his skin is still warm and soft from the bath, and he's pliable in Orochimaru's arms. This time, when Orochimaru kisses him—his cheek, his jaw, his throat, his collar bone—he tries to reciprocate, fumbling hands and awkward kisses. So sweet and lonely and _willing_.

Orochimaru lays him out on his back and leans down to taste him; one of the serpent's gifts is to learn the world by the taste of it. And Kimimaro tastes so sweet, raw chakra and soft skin, rich potential and slowly blossoming, delicate trust. He whimpers at the touch, arching his back, gooseflesh shivering across his bared skin. Orochimaru clasps his hands instead of taking his wrists to hold him still, and slides snake-limber further down.

It takes little time and less technique to make Kimimaro gasp and shiver; the curl and flex of Orochimaru's tongue will have him thoroughly spoiled by the time anyone else takes an interest in him. There's no fluid, but the taste of his skin changes subtly as he reaches his peak, suffused with an earthy note of pleasure that makes even this small act a victory.

He clings to Orochimaru after that, whispering half-coherent gratitude, his eyes wide in the dim light. He lets his hand be steered down, his rhythm guided; he seems happy to have the chance to repay the favor. His hand is clumsy but his willingness is beautiful.

He has an exceptional bloodline limit; he is quick to learn now that he has the chance; he is desperately grateful for affection. When they've finished for the night and cleaned up again, Orochimaru draws the boy back into his arms. "I'd like to keep you with me always," he says, and he can hear the catch in Kimimaro's breath, as good as an answer. "You could be a crucial part of my plans. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Kimimaro says immediately, arms wrapped around Orochimaru's middle, holding on tight. "Yes."

Orochimaru tilts the boy's head up and kisses his mouth gently. Their eyes meet, and he can feel the melting surrender of the boy's will. "Then I promise," he says, "you will always have a place with me."


End file.
